


Touching Gus

by twowritehands



Series: Touching Gus [1]
Category: Psych
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/twowritehands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn might not be ready, but it's happening</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touching Gus

It’s hard to say when it started, what happened first; Shawn doesn’t even worry about it. It just is. Like his awesomeness.  
Gus is his best friend in the world, his right hand man, his partner in crime (solving) and occasionally they touch each other.

It’s truly NOT as weird as it sounds. Or maybe it is. Or maybe (probably) it doesn’t even sound weird… Shawn wouldn’t know, because Shawn doesn’t say it out loud, doesn’t hear it--doesn’t even think about it. That would be like thinking about laughing, why he had to laugh every single time he laughed.

Maybe he freaked out about it once or twice (privately, quietly, and briefly) years and years ago in his younger days before he had his stuff together, when he lived in out-of-business dry cleaners and couldn’t hold down a job to save his life--before Psych, before he was Shawn Spencer, consultant psychic for the Santa Barbra Police Department.

God, he loves the way that sounds. (He knows because that is something he definitely says out loud, and hears, and thinks about. Constantly.)

But touching Gus… it doesn’t happen a lot, it just happens enough that it’s a Thing they do. And like any number of their Things, it’s something that started too long ago to remember its origins but that they’ve strung along for most of their lives.

This particular Thing is an… inside joke, if you will (a joke with an orgasm in place of a punch line). It comes and goes. Sometimes its greatest weapon is the element of surprise, springing out after it’s been in hibernation long enough to be totally forgotten.

Like all inside jokes, the last time they saw it could have been back in high school, or maybe on that stake out that one time, or maybe right after that amazing girl dumped Shawn because India is apparently cooler than psychic detectives… but then suddenly it’s there and it’s hilarious and they each end up smiling because wow, it’s been that long and I still have him with me every single day.

This Thing they do is nothing that requires a word spoken between them on the ins and outs of it (heh, pun totally intended); when it starts to happen, they each stay quiet because they know what to do, why, and how they’re going to move forward from it. Discussing any of those things would just be a stupid waste of time.

And okay, man points would also be lost, not to mention egos bruised, and no doubt the weirdness would come. That weirdness they each secretly expect but never find.

Maybe it’s never weird to Shawn just because Gus never has his bedroom eyes on for it. (Shawn has seen Gus’s bedroom eyes while spying and it would definitely be freaky to be the one Gus is aiming that thing at.) Shawn swears that if Gus ever tried his bedroom eyes on him, no straight face would be kept; no attempt would even be made. Chandler Bing’s catch phrase would probably make a comeback. Oh MY god!

And Gus knows this--of course he does--so that’s (probably) why he never has on that oh-so-serious-grown-up-and-mature-I-Want-You-Now look in his eye for Shawn. Instead Gus just stays Gus and Shawn stays Shawn.

Yeah, okay, they’re showing sides of their personalities that most people don’t know about (Shawn is quieter and Gus is much more powerful) but they have always known these sides of each other so it’s not weird to them.

And just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean Shawn’s not smirking while he notices absolutely everything there is to notice, the obvious stuff along with the-not-so-obvious stuff---and then the little genius observations which usually make him smile even with his pants down around his knees.

And just because Gus is being rather more compelling than his usual yielding habits doesn’t mean he’s not being the reasonable one, the careful planner who keeps them safe in all of his slightly neurotic ways. And when the hidden clues about themselves or their surroundings turns Shawn’s smirk into a smile, Gus always smiles too, even with sweat rolling down between his shoulder blades, staining his purple shirt.

Shawn is always happy to witness the smile break out on Gus’ face. It’s a good smile. Broad, contagious; there’s just something about clean, perfect teeth getting flashed like bling in that chocolate face that makes Shawn consider deep stuff for, like, half a second before real stuff comes back and there’s a clue or a security dog and they have to run.

Shawn never consciously avoids the deep stuff. He knows it’s there, like a duck knows the lake is way deeper than he’ll ever swim; he’ll only ever skim the surface, the entire nature of a duck’s life. Don’t get mad at the duck.

Not that anyone is getting mad right now. Shawn isn’t mad right now. Why would Shawn be mad right now? So what if Gus suddenly has a boyfriend?

(Gus has a boyfriend, a man-friend, a gentleman caller, a beau, a dude he dates--as in dates with wining and dining and hand holding and kissing and sex and morning breath and laughter and--dating!)

It feels weird, but that’s just because it’s a man. But so what if it’s a man? The dude is clearly bottoming and that’s really no different than a girlfriend, which Gus has had lots of in the past, all gorgeous women who could sate the pharmaceutical salesman’s need for a true-blue emotional _and_ physical intimacy (given freely at the same time) which is totally understandable and maybe why Shawn has put himself out there with a couple of women himself from time to time. Women can just do things for men that men can’t do for each other. That makes sense. But Gus with another guy? That doesn’t.

Gus with a guy means that the Thing they do is no longer written off as just-dude-with-dude’s-best-friend, because if Gus is with a dude (if Gus is legitimately dating dudes) then being with any other dude counts as cheating, and that’s just not cool.

So touching Gus right now is a bad idea. Shawn has already decided not to instigate any Thing even though the boyfriend is out of town, and there is like NOTHING on cable, and all he really wants is something to do with his hands; okay maybe slightly it’s to do with marking territory.

Shawn has this inclination to claim what’s his and always has been his. It’s weird alpha stuff—like he’s afraid he’ll be replaced as the best friend? Yeah right; maybe if the guy started now, in thirty years he might have a chance to be half the friend to Gus that Shawn is. So that’s not it. It’s deeper stuff that Shawn doesn’t want to investigate right now when he has other more important (paying) things to investigate.

There’s a case, a murder, a dangerous man on the loose. It’s up to Shawn to save everyone. Again. But his head is really spinning right now because Gus doesn’t smell like Gus, he smells like some random guy and it’s hard to think.

Then Gus is touching him.

....

Gus knows what he likes, and he likes it when Shawn is quiet. When he tells that to people, people always laugh, but it’s not how it sounds, like a joke about how annoying Shawn is when he won’t shut up. (Okay, it is a little bit how it sounds, but not totally.) Sure it’s nice to have some peace around the office, but Gus has come to like it when Shawn is quiet because Shawn is quiet for only one reason.

You see, normally, Shawn is loud and obnoxious, but the conclusion of Gus’ life-long study says Shawn does that for attention, and for laughs, but mostly to distract unsuspecting on-lookers from what is really happening; Shawn solving complex puzzles in the shattered remains of a dead guy’s (or girl’s) life, in short Shawn being the genius he never asked to be. So when he’s quiet, that’s him being not-so-genius.

That’s the libido talking, and it’s Gus’ job to shut it up pretty quickly so that the genius can come back and the case can be solved before somebody else dies, or the killer gets away. A quick hand job in the middle of the day is never weird between friends who taught each other how to masturbate.

(Maybe a few years ago Gus opening up about his bisexuality made it weird for like a second, but the close-your-eyes-and-think-of-whoever-while-you-use-my-hand trick never stopped working for Shawn just because of it.) Shawn is straight, but he lets Gus get the job done and believes in returning the favor, tit-for-tat, because he is the best friend a guy can ask for.

So this is what Gus likes. He likes to help Shawn think. He happens to like men enough not to be freaked out by the duty. He also likes to have the credit (however strictly private it is) for some of Shawn Spencer’s genius. Meanwhile, Gus likes men and women, but happens to have spent most of his life dating more women than men because it seems weird to make cock a habit that would overlap with work like that.

But then one day Ogletree gives Gus an apprentice to train on selling mucus inhibiters and that apprentice is really kind of great, with the whole package (pun not intended): brains, sex appeal, employed, decent, and understanding of the nature of Gus’ other job; he never gets mad when things come up unexpectedly. And Gus thinks it’s time he explore his interest in sexy men a little more, get to know what it’s like to be with a man outside his Thing with Shawn.

It’s weird. Gus doesn’t know this guy; this guy doesn’t know Gus. They date to try and fix that. It doesn’t really work. Gus can feel himself changing to fit this guy, and that doesn’t sound right. He shouldn’t change to find love. Compromises are important in any healthy relationship, but not this many. He’s not a teenager anymore. He is grown; in his thirties. If something isn’t working now, then it isn’t going to work later.

The boyfriend is on the road, on the extended route without Gus, and Gus doesn’t feel like waiting for him to come back to do this so he calls him. They talk. It isn’t pretty, but it is over before they hang up. Gus hopes it doesn’t get complicated at work now. It never gets complicated with Shawn; with Shawn it just always works.

So it’s just Shawn that Gus likes. Huh.

Gus watches his best friend over the next couple of days. It’s the usual stuff, the usual Shawn, the wise-cracker extraordinaire, in faded jeans and long sleeves that reach his knuckles, turning his silly antics into a deliberate flirtation with the line between right and wrong just to get a rise out of Gus. In times like these, Gus suspects that Shawn likes to be controlled by Gus. Then he tells himself to stop being foolish. Shawn is straight.

They take on a case that has one of those dead-ends right in the middle of it, and they both know by now that this means there’s going to be a major twist that helps everything make sense again, but the twist hasn’t happened yet, because Shawn is being quiet.  
Cue Gus’s other-other job.

Weirdly nervous because romantic weekends with his ex-boyfriend are still in his head but now with a different face in the role opposite him, Gus goes into action. He corners Shawn between the window and the door to the bedroom, and starts with one of the typical questions that has always lead into the Thing, “are you distracted by something, Shawn?”

Shawn’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and his lips spread into a smile. “Gus, man, what are you doing?” he asks, and his laughter sounds forced for the connoisseur of Shawn Spencer Laughs that Gus has become after two plus decades. Shawn is nervous because he doesn’t know Gus is single again, that this isn’t cheating. He doesn’t know because Shawn hasn’t asked about the boyfriend, not real questions like he does with the girlfriends, because he isn’t interested.

(And okay, that disinterest stings Gus a little, but that’s a straight guy for you.) That has been another weird thing about dating a man, for Gus; he can’t talk to Shawn about it. Usually he can talk to Shawn about anything, except maybe how much he likes to help Shawn think.  
“Shut up, Shawn... I’m testing something,” he adds the last bit as more of an after-thought, because he thinks he felt something, a tremble in Shawn’s body, a tiny glimpse in his eyes—something Gus never noticed before he got a boyfriend and learned to look for this stuff in a man—actual desire.

“But what about—“

“He’s not coming back. We broke up last week. Just close your eyes, Shawn!” Gus snaps.

Shawn swallows, and obeys with a shadow of a smile on his face. Likes to be controlled. Cock a little heavy already, Gus reaches for the front of Shawn’s faded jeans which might have started out as Gus’ a few years ago before Shawn claimed them as his own. “It’s not a real dead end,” he says reassuringly. “We’ve just over looked something. Clear your mind. You’ll think of it.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Shawn says, his hands falling naturally into place along Gus’ collarbone, pale fingers touching dark skin, trailing up his neck, idly exploring. He takes a deep breath, trying to relax. Gus watches his eyes move back and forth under his closed lids, looking at a perfectly recreated crime scene in his mind. God, he loves that Shawn can do that. He’s so brilliant sometimes that Gus catches himself really believing it is some kind of borderline psychic ability bleeding through.

Quietly, diligently, the hand in the front of his donated jeans strokes his best friend’s hardening cock through a plain black pair of boxer shorts. Shawn groans and thunks his head back on the wall. He’s probably thinking about the lead actress in whatever movie or show he’s watched recently. It doesn’t bother Gus--so long as he isn’t thinking about Juliette. Gus has made it very clear how wrong it is for either of them to be thinking about REAL PEOPLE that they see EVERYDAY when they do this. That is weird.

When next Gus happens to look into Shawn’s face, he is surprised to find that the fake psychic has his eyes open and is looking right at him. That’s almost against the rules (almost just because they never established rules) but generally Shawn keeps his eyes closed, or he focuses on the surroundings. No eye contact; that is the unspoken line.

Gus’ hand falters. “What?” he asks. Shawn jumps unperceptively (Gus doesn’t see it, but feels it with his hand on such a vulnerable spot on Shawn’s body) and the lead investigator closes his eyes tight. “Nothing. I just—I—“ he growls in frustration, raking a hand through his hair. Gus thinks he understands. Shawn doesn’t get like this a lot, but it has happened. Some cases really stretch his limits.

Gus kicks into second gear. It is a lesser used, but no less effective, way to totally wipe Shawn’s mind. He pulls his best friend toward the bedroom. “Clear your mind, Shawn,” he uses his firmest voice. “That means stop thinking all together.”

Shawn nods mutely as he lies down on the bed, making himself comfortable against all the pillows, wriggling the rest of the way out of his pants. Gus steps out of his shoes and un-tucks his shirt before climbing in on top of him. The bed creaks a little, and Shawn’s body is solid, yet soft to squeeze. With their knees slotted together, they rut against one another’s thighs for a minute.

Gus sinks into the heat of it all, into the familiar, comforting scents of Shawn’s bedroom; the open, abandoned bag of cheese Doritos on the night stand mixing with Shawn’s laundry detergent and his shampoo, and the musky scent of sex that is slowly boiling up to the surface from underneath it all, but he doesn’t forget himself. He doesn’t forget what is happening, why.

“Just relax,” he says, because Shawn is tensed beneath him and this is strange, unlike any mood Shawn’s ever been in. At Gus’ words, he smacks his lips, opens his eyes, and whines. “It’s no use, man, there’s nothing to find! I’ve thought of everything already!”

Oh. Gus stills. He learned a long time ago how to recognize when Shawn is using misdirection. Look-at-my-immature-hissy-fit-instead-of-  
...what? What doesn’t Shawn want him to see? There’s only one possible answer; it’s what Gus thought he saw earlier, that spark of something else. When Shawn bites his lip and presses up against him, body shaking, Gus is sure of it.

......

Shawn’s heart is hammering. He knows Gus is onto him about his mind not being on the case. It’s just not. No matter how hard he tries, it slips back into other thoughts. Troubling thoughts. He can’t stop thinking about how this is the first Thing to come up after Gus started dating dudes, and now his mind is racing with all kinds of weird ideas about what dating dudes do together—

How can it be so different from what he and Gus normally have that Gus had to get it from some other dude? And it all feels a little like when Gus first came out about liking men only way worse because this time it’s Shawn who is thinking maybe he likes men, too. Or something. No not men, because it’s more like just one dude. It’s Gus.

It’s Gus.

“Shawn?” Gus whispers. He’s never whispered to Shawn while they’re like this. Or if he has, it was never like this, with Gus’s body pressing him down into the mattress, and Gus’s fingers brushing his hair, barely skimming his skull while his other fingers trail down the back of his leg, past the hem of his boxers to skim the fuzz of his inner thigh.

Abort. Abort. Abort.

Knee jerk reaction has Shawn laughing and pushing him away, “Man, maybe we should just—“

Gus uses force and Shawn bodily thunks back down into the pillows, blood spiking so that he can’t tell if it’s adrenaline before a fight or if it’s arousal. Gus is giving him a look that Shawn barely recognizes, “Shawn, have you ever been with a guy?”

Shawn’s eyebrows snap together and he huffs up at Gus, “What? Dude, I’ve been with you, like, fifty times!”

A slow smile shows Shawn all those white teeth and Gus’s fingers are still in his hair but the other hand comes up and trails blunt nails up his jaw, just along the bottom, and for some reason that makes Shawn’s fingers shake. Gus looks smug and happy and he whispers again, “That’s what I thought.”

Instinct has Shawn throwing another fit, down-playing everything, turning it all into something hilarious that can be laughed away and forgotten. He’s thumping his fists into the sheets, throwing his head back as if he can get away from his friend as he whines, “Man, stop it with the Mysterious Worldly Gus stuff. You’re freaking me out!”

What he’s really doing is making Shawn harder than he’s ever been before and Gus wouldn’t have to be a genius detective to notice that particular detail pressing into his thigh right now. Gus laughs and it’s the sound Shawn most associates with Fun.

And with that laugh, his friend surprisingly moves away, drops down to lie on his side next to Shawn and for a second it’s all normal again, it’s all easy and fun and something Shawn wants so badly his stomach hurts with the pull of it. Gus is still smiling and he’s still too close as he says, “I knew that even though you say you're straight, when we’re like this you consider it as being with someone.”

The fun feeling goes away and Shawn’s jaw tightens as he looks away with a deliberate mask of confusion scrunching his face, “What? Where’d you get that? Now you’re just being…” he wants to say gay but considering their position and everything… Gus is practically lying on top of him, pressing a hot line down the side of Shawn’s body and they’re both still hard and somehow Shawn’s hand is on Gus’s side like it belongs there.

Gus catches his face and turns it back so that Shawn’s vision is filled with Gus’s smile and Gus’s nose bumps Shawn’s forehead. His words kiss Shawn’s brow as he says, “You do. It’s not just letting off steam or clearing your head; you’re with me. That means you’re not straight, Shawn. Straight men don’t feel like this.”

Shawn makes a _pshft_ sound with an unconvincing shake of his head. He can still feel Gus’ lips ghosting across his brow. They’ve never kissed before. Kissing is extraneous in a hand job or a quick fuck, not needed, so not given. It’s like the eye contact, it’s just always been a kind of an unspoken rule to keep their lips to themselves, yet here’s Gus letting his mouth touch Shawn’s face like it belongs there.

Shawn’s heart is still hammering and he still wants to run because this is… this is a duck turning upside down for a quick plunge into the refreshingly cool water only for something down in the depths to reach up, grab his head and pull him all the way down to the unknown bottom.

It’s getting too close, too much like something that’s going to hurt later. Hurt like Abigail leaving, or his parents’ divorce, or losing an arm. Shawn’s head is pounding with every rapid heartbeat. It was never like this before. He used to could just lay back and let Gus make him feel good and it was never like this. What the hell happened?

Shawn doesn’t know but one thing he is sure of, it’s time to go. There’s a case to solve, or laundry to do, or maybe he can finally call Dad about helping him clear that junk from the attic…

But Gus has a hold on him and won’t let him go, his lips return to Shawn’s face to press a line of kisses down Shawn’s jaw and Shawn tries to laugh it away, “What are you doing? What has the mucus guy done to you? You’re being all--“

“Shut up, Shawn,” Gus cuts in. “Just go with it.”

“I don’t want to go with it,” Shawn whines (God what a horrible habit, he never realized it’s his default distraction method only because he’s never had to work so hard to distract someone), “I want to solve the case but my head is just so--“ he knows from the look on Gus’s face that his friend can see right through this second attempt at a misdirection and that only makes Shawn more scared.

“Shhh,” Gus insists as he moves in impossibly closer and rubs himself against Shawn. Shawn can feel how hard Gus is through his trousers, just as hard as Shawn is. “I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

“Gus,” Shawn says and it isn’t a lover’s sigh, it’s a plea, like Gus wants to do something that Shawn doesn’t want to do but that he already knows he will do because this is Gus and he’ll do anything for Gus.

“What’s wrong, Shawn?”

This immediately strikes Shawn as a dumb question. Gus knows that it was hard enough for Shawn to get emotionally close to Abigail (a girl he’s loved since he was fifteen), that it was nearly impossible to let her in, to share himself with her, and he was the one topping in that relationship! Doesn’t Gus realize that the vulnerability only quadruples when it’s Shawn who is opening his legs and letting someone physically in?

“What’s wrong is that you’re acting like we’re suddenly together or something!” Shawn practically whines just for the sake of whining. “It’s weird!”

“Shawn, you must be outta your damn mind,” Gus teases, “We’ve only been together for over twenty years.”

“You know what I mean,” Shawn’s voice comes out so much quieter than he means for it to. God, he sounds like a girl. This needs to become dudes doing their Thing again quick because--

Gus is kissing him square on the mouth, parting Shawn’s lips and entering and Shawn is sighing into Gus’s mouth and when Gus pulls away, Shawn makes an appallingly embarrassing mewing sound because he isn’t ready for the kiss to end just yet.

And there’s Gus’s laughter again, acting like an eraser of anxieties and his fingers trail through Shawn’s hair once more, other hand softly marching fingertips up his bicep. Shawn wonders where Gus learned to do this to a dude, such soft but deliberate touches. Did his boyfriend teach it to him or is it something Gus has always done with his lovers just never Shawn because Shawn has always made sure he was never a lover in this Thing that they do?

Whatever his reasons for doing it now, Gus’s blunt nails feel like magic across his scalp and Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and his hips roll forward against Gus and a groan pulls out of him.

…….

Gus doesn’t in this moment have an answer as to why he never before coaxed Shawn into this position more often, because it’s so nice, to feel Shawn’s tongue, taste him, breathe his breath and feel Shawn’s entire body trembling beneath him, because of him.

Gus has had Shawn like this, face to face on a bed, before, of course, but those times were very few and far between and there was still no kissing so it was hardly any more intimate than the hand jobs. To Gus, the trembling used to only mean that Shawn needed to come as fast as possible.

Now, though, Gus realizes he was all wrong. The trembling means it’s good, good enough that it doesn’t have to end right away. It just means Shawn is feeling more than the friction on his foreskin. The thought makes Gus smile, that his friend is actually this… soft and sweet--this mushy--in the middle.

Gus can work with mushy.

No more talking is necessary; Shawn is pliant in his hands, sighing his usual surrendering sigh, and when Gus kisses him, the kisses come back as good as they’re given and when Gus touches him, Shawn’s hands answer with corresponding (if not a little hesitant, exploring) caresses.

…..

They take their time, but still they’re both naked sooner than expected and the drawer is off its tracks again so is loudly spilled in the floor but neither of them care about the stupid drawer because Gus is slippery and in up to his knuckles and Shawn’s not a duck any more. He’s a fish; a fish that doesn’t know how to swim.

“Dude,” Shawn breathes as Gus positions himself to replace his fingers with the girth of his amazing, chocolate cock. Gus pauses and smirks at him, looks almost shy.

“What?”

Shawn’s voice can’t go above a whisper, “What are we doing, man?”

Gus’s smile is slow and there’s a look in his eye--what is that? What is--Oh, fuck.

Bedroom eyes.

Those are Gus’s bedroom eyes! Shawn’s thoughts scatter colorful and tasty like skittles and he thinks there was something he was going to do, or say, some way he’d sworn to make fun of Gus for being an idiot if this happened, but he can’t think of it. All he can think is that Gus wants him and Gus can have him, (of course Gus can have him, it’s Gus) but... but if (when) Shawn messes this up, it’s Gus he’ll be losing.

Shawn’s not sure he can take that risk because what would he become, without Gus?

“Shawn, you’re thinking about this too much,” Gus says.

“You’re not thinking about this enough!” Shawn snaps.

“Oh really?” Gus asks and before Shawn can form a thought to answer, Gus is plunging in up to the hilt in one hard, swift thrust. The hot, huge intrusion and the sudden stretch it brings hurts. The pain wipes Shawn’s mind clear as his eyes brim with water and his whole body jumps up from the bed but then Gus’s hands are on his shoulders holding him down firmly and then Gus’s mouth is over his in a devouring kiss.

He is trapped by Gus’ body, owned by it, and his mind is still blank white and blissfully quiet and Gus’ commanding mouth tastes like the cheese Doritos he swiped from the bag on the night stand as he was getting the lube. The thought-bleaching pain from Gus’ less than gentle breech is settling down into a pleasant feeling of fullness, of welcomed stretch, and Gus hasn’t moved yet, staying still and allowing Shawn’s body to adjust.

Gus’ kisses aren’t stopping, coming one right after the other, each as exploring and tasty as the last and it’s Shawn who starts trying to move first, pushing up against Gus, rocking under him, looking for some kind of friction and so Gus raises up on his arms and starts rolling his hips into Shawn’s, pushing and pulling himself in and out of him.

Shawn’s eyes drop closed and he sinks into the pleasure of it and in his mind’s eye, he sees the room and the door is ajar, the blinds of one window half up and crooked with the right end higher than the left. Outside, there are two black cars on the curb and four people on the beach and one of them has a dog. A chocolate lab that can catch a garish orange Frisbee.

Gus’s thrusts are taking Shawn’s breath and tightening his every muscle but he keeps his eyes closed and sees their clothes discarded in the floor, the drawer over top of them and on its side. Condoms (Gus-sized as well as Shawn-sized) are strewn up under the bed and new AA batteries lay still in their pack and a tangle of twine bracelets are under a square bottle of cologne and some rumpled, faded receipts are mixed with a few escaped, stale Doritos like some kind of trail mix and an unopened pack of sour gummy worms is mostly covering a scatter of blue Bic pens and his fake black rimmed glasses are half slid out of their purple felt case and a burner cell phone (for just in case he needs one) is face down and still in the drawer.

Gus is making sounds jump out of Shawn but he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle it and arches into the pleasure and refuses to open his eyes because he’s not finished mapping the room. The carpet needs a vacuum. There’s a cobweb in the corner next to the closet door. His closet is open and disorganized on the inside. His blankets are in a heap in the floor on the other side of the bed, sheet most prominent in the bundle. In the middle of the ceiling, the light is off; the bulbs are the curlicue kind at Gus’s insistence.

Shawn’s lip springs free of his teeth with a shout and his fingers press hard into Gus’s shoulders as he squeezes and bucks back into the amazing feeling brought on by the spot Gus massages on the inside, and in his minds’ eye, the room is forgotten and he sees Gus over him.  
Gus is slightly frowning in concentration and beads of sweat are on his brow and the cords of his neck are standing up and his shoulders look buffer than usual and there’s a line between his eyebrows.

Opening his eyes, casting a look around, Shawn sees he was right on every detail about the world outside the room, inside the room, and Gus. Yes, there’s the line between Gus’s eyebrows. Shawn smiles, pushes his hands back and forth along Gus’s shoulders to enjoy their width. Gus smiles, too, turns his head to drop a kiss on the back of Shawn’s hand and that’s new. It rolls down Shawn’s arm and makes his chest tighter and Shawn closes his eyes again.

His body quakes and his pleasure spikes and Gus drops down on an elbow and his mouth bites and sucks at Shawn’s neck and the back of Gus’s chocolate covered honey dew head fits so perfectly in Shawn’s hand, but Gus doesn’t stay there long because the position compromises their rhythm so he’s back up and thrusting and Shawn’s hand trails from the back of his head around and down his jaw and--Gus catches Shawn’s thumb in his mouth and bites him, then sucks wetly to sooth the sting.

Shawn experimentally presses his thumb against Gus’s tongue and Gus’s tongue presses back. “Dude,” Shawn breathes, and it sounds something like a revelation, and, as if it’s a command, Gus’s hand wraps around Shawn’s upstanding, bobbing cock and starts pulling in time to his pushes, and Shawn’s mind is wiped clean again.

The pleasure comes from all around him now, no matter which way he moves, he finds more. Back and he’s fucking himself on Gus’s cock, forward and his own cock slides in Gus’s hand and heat is coiling at the base of his spine, his balls are drawing up tight, his back is arching up off the bed and he rolls his head back to expose his throat, eyes screwed shut.

The break comes with a shout and then his fingers feel shaky again as he grips the back of Gus’s neck. Gus is still going, fast and hard, and a moment later, he’s pushing in and stopping and choking as Shawn feels the familiar pulses deep inside. And with them comes the uncurling of something which had drawn tight all the way up and down Shawn’s spine, a relaxation, a finish and Shawn’s muscles go into jelly mode for it. He loves Jelly Mode. Sometimes he fakes thinking too much just so Gus can give him Jelly Mode.

Both of them spent, Gus eases out of Shawn and drops down on his back on the mattress, chest pumping like forgery bellows keeping the fire hot, and Shawn reacquaints himself with the sensation of his knees touching, and he happily greets the perfect, intimate ache that’s going to make jumping around for his Psychic visions interesting later when he solves this case.

They look up at the curlicue bulb for several long minutes, just breathing and not thinking about now, but five minutes ago when they’re minds had blown. Shawn closes his eyes and recreates the crime scene but he doesn’t get far before he feels Gus move.

…..

With the condom stripped, tied and tossed in the trash, the bed creaks as Gus reaches for something in the floor in front of the closet and he comes up with an old shirt. He wipes Shawn down with it; Shawn all the while lays quiet and observant with his eyes fixed on Gus.  
This is another thing they never did during their Thing. They just called it done and cleaned themselves up. But Gus likes this, touching Shawn even after he’s finished. Touching him, laying hands on him with a purpose outside sex… allowed to continue feeling him move more.

Gus deliberately doesn’t speak as he works under Shawn’s relentless gaze. He wraps the shirt up around Shawn’s jizz and throws it in the direction of the hamper before lying back with an exaggerated sigh of leisure.

  
Shawn snorts, rolls over onto his stomach to stretch like a cat, about to drop into the sleep which is always piggy backing on Jelly Mode. With his head resting on his forearms, Shawn looks up at Gus sitting against the headboard and murmurs through his smirk, “Dude, I can get used to this.”

Gus grins at him, reaches over to pop the flat of his hand on Shawn’s exposed cheeks, “Solve the case, Shawn. We’ve got a murderer to catch.”

**Author's Note:**

> This can end here ... or maybe I could really get into the angst of Shawn not being ready to commit to this, having issues about being Out, etc... Heck, maybe it can even become a threesome with some other character? I'm open to exploring all kinds of things.
> 
> I just don't know what to do with this (if I should do anything more to it at all) so I've posted it. It seems complete, after all, so it feels like a shame to leave it collecting dust in my files.
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
